


Don't Think

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [47]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 17:32:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: (Some spoilers for 9x14)Molly's always worse when he talks about it.Don't think.Yasha isn't what he needs right now, but fuck, she's going to make sure he gets what hedoes.





	Don't Think

It always gets so much worse when he talks about it. Sneaks up behind him like his shadow, he feels its breath on the back of his neck, the feeling, sensation of fingers ghosting up his back and drifting around his throat and  _ squeezing _ , each bit of pressure the hint of a new memory and he gulps down air, squeezes his eyes shut against it.   
_ Don’t think _ . He reminds himself, shakes all thought from his mind and replaces it with darkness,  _ just don’t think _ .   
It fades and he can breathe again.   
Caleb is staring, curious and worried, he leans over and there’s the lightest of fingertips on his arm but it makes him wince and Caleb pulls back again.   
“Yasha.” He hears Caleb say, but his eyes, his body won’t move, he’s fighting, fighting, his fingertips clutch at the cloak of nothingness and he needs it. He says he’s happy, he is happy, the constant threat to his life looms at the edges of his thoughts but he’s happy, he has Caleb and Fjord and Beau, he’s kept Yasha, he has Jester and Nott, he has so much. He tries to remind himself of that, the right kind of memory, but letting anything through the veil brings with it an onslaught.    
Yasha sits beside him and there’s a hand on the small of his back, heavy, the right kind of cold, Yasha’s hands are always cold and he’s not wearing his coat.   
“Molly.” She says, it’s quiet but it’s firm, “Don’t do that. Come back.”   
He tries to make a witty remark, tries for a retort, it chokes in his throat, and she grimaces.   
“Gonna pick you up.” She warns him, and gives it a couple of seconds before she stands and pulls him up, too, scoops him up easily, like he’s weightless, and she looks to Caleb and Fjord, looks between them, settles on Caleb.   
“Caleb.” And walks, and she doesn’t need to say more, he’s at her heels, Frumpkin winds around Nott’s ankles to stop her following them upstairs.   
She waits outside of Caleb’s room for him to unlock the door, Molly is still distant in her arms, it’s like he’s not there at all. There’s a hint of a whirlwind within, but he’s crushing it down and it’s all he can do.   
“Which bed?” She asks Caleb as she passes, and he follows, gestures to the one closest to the door,   
“Mine. Nott eats in bed.” he pulls a face and she manages a small smile, drops Molly on the bed unceremoniously. He flops and lays there, and Yasha turns to Caleb, he sees the flicker of worry to her.   
“You know about memories. Molly’s told me.”   
Caleb raises a hand to his mouth to chew, gently, nervously, at his thumb,   
“How- how much have you been told?”   
“All that he knows.” It’s not a lot, “There’s no way to fix it, I know, I’ve tried, but we have work to do today. Just get him presentable.”   
“It doesn’t work like that, not, not really. And y-you, you are the one that, he knows and trusts.”   
“No.” Yasha sighs, “And yes, in that order. There’s things that help a great deal when it comes to comfort, though, and I can provide only so much. I know Molly well, remember, I know what he needs. It isn’t me, not right now.”   
“I’m right here.” Molly says, absently, though he hasn’t moved at all and Yasha shakes her head,   
“No, you’re not.”   
“Ah.” And he goes quiet again, Caleb wonders if it’s a code, or if, in a more literal sense, Molly has pulled himself inside to protect, like a tortoise retreating into its shell. It could very easily be either.   
“I’ll be outside the door if he asks for me.” And she brushes past Caleb, he hears the door click closed behind her, and there he is with a mess of a Mollymauk spread loosely on his bed, and this is not the way he’d hoped for that scenario.   
He drifts closer and Molly’s head tilts, fractionally, more than he’d seen happen for Yasha at least.   
Caleb sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to even brush Molly, and waits, quietly. He has no idea what Yasha expects him to do.   
A hand skirts up his thigh and he almost jumps, it stills and rests, palm flat to his leg, and Caleb sighs. Everything on Molly’s terms. What could help. What helps when Caleb needs pulled away from his past?   
The hand on his thigh squishes a little.   
Grounding. In the present, things he enjoys, but there’s so little to appreciate right now and he can’t go back too far.    
“Last night was, was an odd, experience,” he tries, and Molly flinches a little but Caleb isn’t going for his fault lines, “You were quite drunk. Do you remember Jester asking me about, about, shaving-”   
“Your ass.” Molly’s murmur is just audible.   
“Yes, that. You and I really should have discussed that, it seems an interesting concept, don’t you think? What would prompt her to ask, like that? She seemed so disinterested,” he laughs a little bit, actually, “In the arguably important features of the evening. She was, she was more preoccupied with trying to, to, to get Yasha to confess her feelings for Beau.”   
Molly snorts a little bit of a laugh.   
“Feelings. Not quite.”   
“And you, Mollymauk! You find someone in the party attractive,  _ ja _ ?”   
Molly’s smiling, now.   
“Multiple, really.”   
“I can agree with that. I, I mean, Fjord! Look at him!” he gestures to the door a little, “Who, with clear vision, can look at him and not, not, not agree to that?”   
“Oh, none of the Nein, at least.” Molly smiles, the shadow of a grin, “I’ve even heard Beau tell him he’s handsome.”   
“Really?  _ Beauregard? _ ”   
“She’s surprisingly emotive, once you get past the layer of… Beau.”   
They share a laugh and Molly sits up, keeping, deliberately, his hand on Caleb’s thigh.   
“Where’s your stance on contact, now?” Caleb asks him, and Molly inhales deeply as he thinks. He reaches his free arm out, makes a grabby hand motion, Caleb smiles, warmth, and climbs closer. Molly finally moves his hand, finally, to wrap his arms instead around Caleb’s back and take hold of his own forearm to lock it in place, he rests his head to Caleb’s chest, one horn just slipped over his shoulder, and thanks him, silently, for kneeling, it can’t be a comfortable position.   
“Where can I put my hands?” Caleb asks, soft from above Molly’s head, and he shakes his horns a little, makes them jingle.   
“Head and neck.”   
Caleb lifts and buries his fingers in the hair under the curve of Molly’s horns. Or  _ horn _ , the one not currently slotted over his shoulder, he stays still and quiet and waits.   
“Thanks, Caleb.”   
“Can- if you’re not, hm. Not able to answer, just, don’t, it’s okay-”   
“Caleb, this worries me, spit it out.” Molly has tensed,   
“Can I ask about something that Yasha said?”   
“Can’t promise I’ll know, she’s very mysterious.” Caleb feels a twitch of a smirk, Molly loosens again, relaxes,   
“She said, _ ‘there’s things that help a great deal when it comes to comfort’ _ and I, I was wondering, what that means?”   
“Ah.” Molly sighs, he doesn’t tense, “S’pose you’ve had honesty from me, what’s a little more? Yasha, ah, she may not have developed  _ feelings _ , per se, not quite yet, but I certainly have.”   
“Oh.” Caleb is a smart man. He understands. Molly does tense, then, under his hands,   
“Is that, okay? I won’t, I’ll try not to, I want this to work. The Nein.”   
Caleb wraps his fingers around the horn he’s close to and pulls Molly away from his chest, peels him back so that he can sit again,   
“It is, definitely,” and there’s a grin, that shocks Molly, “It is more than, than okay.”   
“Oh, good.” and then Molly is kissing him, Caleb hums a quick note of surprise but sinks into it, grounding is always good, grounding is what they need.   
Molly pulls away and stands, it’s like nothing was ever wrong, he offers his hand to Caleb,   
“Yasha’ll worry.”   
“We have work to do.” Caleb smiles, somewhat sad, and takes Molly hand to stand.   
Molly kisses him again, brief and sweet.   
“Time for this later.”


End file.
